“My name is Carrington, and I’ll be your watcher for today’s pull.”

I yank my hand out of his. “They fired Dell?”

He laughs. “Ikari’s position is more secure than any watcher in the sector, thanks to you.”

“Oh…good. Where is she?”

“She’s just taking some time off from this part of the job,” he says. “Don’t worry. I promise I won’t get you killed.”

    I don’t want him to think I don’t trust him, so I hide my displeasure.

“Sorry, I don’t like change. I’ve never pulled with anyone but Dell before.”

“Never? Weird,” he says, and begins my prep.

It is weird, I guess. In six years Dell’s never taken a vacation while I worked, or called off long enough that we couldn’t just reschedule pulls for another day. But then again, neither have I. We’ve never said aloud that we didn’t want to work with anyone else, but we’ve both done our part to make sure we never had to.

Until now.

The ache in my chest isn’t just for a missing romantic prospect. It’s also just missing Dell. I’ve seen her face nearly every day since I hatched in this land of strangers, and I wish I’d realized she was my best friend, not just the girl I couldn’t have.

She’s removed herself from seeing me, which makes her wishes clear. I won’t reach out to her, won’t burden her with having to respond to some grand romantic gesture. But if she ever chooses to talk to me, I’ll promise to do whatever she wants. I’ll never flirt again if she’ll stay in my life. I’ll always want her, but I won’t make that her problem.

* * *

WHEN I FINALLY see Jean again, I’m ready for a fight. Working with Carrington has spoiled my mood like milk on a bright day. The watcher and I have nothing to talk about, but that doesn’t stop him from talking.

I sit down, sliding Jean his fob across the desk.

He looks more irritated than surprised.

“You know, if I’d reported this stolen instead of just malfunctioning they would have GPS tracked it to your house and you would have been deported before sunup.”

“I’m sorry, but I had to know. Are you going to cut me out of your life too?”

    He looks at me from just under his eyebrows, holds on to that disapproving scowl for about three more seconds, then softens.

“I heard Dell requested desk duty. She said she was behind on her files. How are things going with Carrington?”

“Do you know how many horses he has? Twelve. Do you know their names? I do. They’re named after the signs of the zodiac. Did I ask for any of this information? I did not.”

He laughs. “Dell will be back. It’s been six years with a mouth like yours, who wouldn’t need a break?”

“Keep talking, old man, and I’ll tell Carrington where you spend your off hours. He’s a big fan.”

“Carrington is a world-walker groupie,” Jean says. “Careful he doesn’t try to sleep with you to taste the stars.”

I gag audibly.

Sitting across from him shouldn’t still feel like sitting with family, but it does. I notice he’s looking down at his fob, so I wait. He draws a quick circle around it with his finger, then taps it like he’s made a decision.

“What did you find?”

This is a good sign. If he was going to ignore what was happening regardless, why would he even ask?

“I was right. There’s nothing there. No R&D department, just a security net to trap anyone who comes looking.”

“Did you get hurt?”

His concern is genuine, which makes it that much harder to be at odds.

“I managed to get out before the shock deployed,” I say, a lie that protects Dell and thankfully takes some of the fatherly fear from his eyes.

“That was a close call. They’ll only get closer from here,” he says.

“You’re not going to try and talk me out of acting against Bosch?”

“Would you listen if I did?”

“Maybe, if you could give me a good enough reason.” I lean forward. “What are your reasons, Jean? What do you tell yourself to make this okay?”

    He’s studying the top of his desk like he can see a pattern in the plastic. I’ve seen this look before, when we were discussing my odds at getting analyst. He’s deciding how much sugar he needs to coat the truth he’s about to give me.

“Have you seen the list of leading bidders? The youngest is two decades older than the life expectancy where I come from. Every year walled cities get richer and more developed, and every year rural provinces get poorer and sicker. The other side of the scale tips down because of their rise, and they do nothing to balance it. I’m supposed to care about these five, when they have ignored entire plagues just outside these walls? I will give their deaths the same courtesy they’ve given the deaths of my people and yours. I’m going to kindly look away.”

I don’t have the right to say he’s wrong. I was born at the tail end of Ashtown’s wars, and I was a child through the time of the blood parades. But Jean was born and grew to adulthood in war and starvation and pestilence. He watched his eldest child born surrounded by the same violence and death he’d grown up with—violence and death driven by a lack of resources, while cities like Wiley grew higher and higher on the horizon.

“I can’t use that as a reason to ignore this. It’s your reason, but it can’t be mine.”

“I know,” he says. “You realize that even if Bosch does not kill you for meddling, you will lose your job and your place here?”

I shrug. “We’ve always known me getting citizenship was a long shot. Me making it to thirty has always been one too.”

“What is your plan?”

“I’ve been gathering information, the names of people he’s ordered killed. I’ll have a comprehensive list in a few days. When I tell the authorities what I think he’s planning, I’ll add the evidence I’ve collected so they can see he’s done it before. This place is still mostly government funded, so his board will comply with enforcement even if he doesn’t want to.”

“And if he learns it is you who began the investigation?”

“Will you tell him?”

    It’s a question I should have asked before running my mouth, but I can’t stop feeling safe with Jean.

He shakes his head. “I won’t.”

I believe him. Not as a kindly grandfather who wants to protect the young, but as a once-and-always soldier who would never put one of his own in danger.

“But if a complaint is made anonymously, the accused is allowed to read it. You may give yourself away.”

“I’ll deal with the consequences, whatever they may be.”

Jean leans forward and puts his hand over mine. His hand is darker and larger, but still more like mine than Carrington’s could ever be.

“Their indifference has killed you on hundreds of worlds, and here you are, sticking your neck out to let them do it one more time. I want you to know, after this goes bad and you’re facing whatever end you’ve engineered for yourself, that I do admire you.”

“Thank you. I mean it. Don’t think I’m not still grateful for everything you’ve done for me. This doesn’t change that.”

“Will you still take the analyst test?”

“Jean, I’m definitely going to get fired for whistleblowing next week.”

“Good thing the test is first thing Monday.” He puts his hand over his heart and makes his eyes wide. “For me?”

I roll my eyes. “Yes, fine. I’ll take the test.”

That weekend, I finish assembling the packet detailing what I’ve found out about Eldridge’s competitors dying unusually on other worlds. I add a letter explaining what I think he plans to do with the highest bidders to facilitate his lucrative commercial trips, including what happened when I visited the department that made the breakthrough.

On Sunday, I airdrop the information to Wiley City’s Tech Crimes digital box.

On Monday I take the exam, dressed like an analyst in my business best.

When the time is up, the screen dings a perfect score. The victory is a little bit of ash on my tongue, but a victory nonetheless. I look around at the Wileyites surrounding me, their expressions ranging from open dismay to disappointment. I want them to know I did it. That I, an Ashtown child so worthless they’ve let her die hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of times, have scored perfect on a test made for them.

    I message Jean about my score, then I walk back to my desk and wait to lose it all.

* * *